


A Soft Sharpness

by MidoriEmmi



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Fluffy, M/M, but also angsty somehow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:19:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6725728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriEmmi/pseuds/MidoriEmmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sougo has never known life without his confidence issues and family struggles. When his tipping point arrives, the only thing keeping him there is a comforting embrace from a certain someone. As an idol, feelings are almost always obstacles, but as with all obstacles; they must either be avoided or faced head on. For YamaSou Day 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Soft Sharpness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wingsatmidnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsatmidnight/gifts).



> Um...hi, I have fallen into IDOLISH7 hell and can't get out?? 8'D First fic for the fandom and just in time for YamaSou (or is it SouYama) day! A gift for Arrowswift, who helped in channelling feels to me. Hope I don't disappoint!

It’s not as if he didn’t expect it, but it came as a surprise nonetheless.

It had been a long week, and with a rare Saturday morning off for all of IDOLISH7 the members were more than happy to work on their individual to-do lists. Iori had plans for a study meet including a reluctant Tamaki, Nagi already had his merchandise shopping list out, and Riku needed to get new clothes. Which left only the adults.

Osaka Sougo was not fond of late night drinking sessions. In fact, he hardly considered a free morning a direct invitation to get drunk just the night before, but he supposed he could use the relaxation. Even he could only deal with so many MEZZO activities before he ran out of steam.

Also...because it was a certain Nikaido Yamato who invited him.

He sighed, the cool night air brushing a few pale locks away from his face.

“Something wrong?” quipped a voice from beside him. Yamato tilted his head, hands in his jean pockets.

“It’s nothing,” Sougo forced out a smile, like he always did, “Just glad we can finally relax for a bit.”

They continued walking, falling into step as the silence of the streets enveloped them. Mitsuki was supposed to come with them, but one very unfortunate chain of events later (“Tamaki stop LEAVING YOUR TEXTBOOKS ALL OVER THE FLOOR!”), the poor guy was in bed with a bandaged head.

He did suggest postponing plans, but Mitsuki would have none of it. In fact, he insisted on them drinking his share as he chased them both out of the dorms and slammed the door as soon as they stepped out.

Now it wouldn’t have been a problem considering their circumstances. For one, they were both adult males who were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. For another, they knew each other, both as colleagues and close friends. There was absolutely no reason why they wouldn’t be out drinking together on a Friday night.

It was just...complicated.

Sougo adjusted his scarf, swiftly returning his hands to his warm jacket pockets. Their usual shop came into view shortly after, and he was more than happy to mentally shove the intruding thoughts aside for the time being. Yamato led the way in, and before long they were both seated with their orders.

“I didn’t really notice it at first,” the bespectacled man began smoothly after the long silence, gently swirling the alcohol in his cup, “But we haven’t really talked much lately, have we Sou?”

Sougo jumped, sipping his drink to dispel some of the awkwardness, “I...guess? We’re all busy with our own schedules after all.”

He had MEZZO on top of the group’s usual activities, and Yamato his acting assignments. Free time was a precious commodity lately, and especially so for the both of them. As part of the eldest members group, it was as if they were tasked with setting a shining example to the younger members - by having to deal with the largest workloads.

At least, that was a common topic they could drink over.

Yamato laughed, tips of his cheeks already tinged crimson. He was far from drunk however.

“That’s why I’m glad we can still come out drinking like this,” he raised his almost empty cup, as if giving a salute, “Thanks for the honour.”

Sougo hesitantly returned the action, internally despairing at the fact that his own cup was nowhere near even half empty and already his drinking partner was starting on his next one. In what could be called a rebellious move, he gulped down the rest of his drink and asked for seconds. Yamato’s only reply was a surprised blink and several slow claps.

The white-haired man smiled triumphantly, even as the heat started creeping up his neck and his mind was starting to get a little woozy.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for the other day,” he began, when it was clear the Yamato wasn’t continuing the conversation, “It meant...it meant a lot to me.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol pulling down his walls, but he was feeling less inhibited by his worries. Despite his assurances that he wasn’t beating himself up over his family issues affecting their progress as a group, Sougo did in fact feel responsible for their troubles. He couldn’t count the number of times he had thought of leaving just so he wouldn’t be such a burden to everyone.

Yet each time, something would stop him. Once it was MEZZO’s new song. Another time it was Nagi dragging him to watch a Kokona marathon. Those things were barely stronger than mere threads, but they held better than he thought they would.

It was all pent up frustration. The fact that he didn’t feel he was good enough, that maybe his dream was not meant to be reality. And one day, when he received a text message from the man he called his father, everything crumbled from the pressure.

_“Stop being a waste of space and start doing something useful.”_

He just collapsed on his bed, dead eyes staring at the ceiling. His father was right, he was wasting his time. What potential did he hope to have, placed amongst people talented beyond his wildest dreams, talented like he wished he was? He could only see through misty vision as he started packing up his things, not bothering to wipe the tears gathering and pricking at the corners of his eyes.

And he would have gone through with it, if Yamato hadn’t appeared.

The expected berating was too much for his muddled self to handle, and there were apologies, reassurances and promises made. He promised never to try and leave like that again, and in that moment, that was enough.

Tears, sobbing, and a gentle warm embrace scented with a comforting musk joined the memories of that night.

It must have been in his imagination, but Sougo was sure Yamato looked redder than before as the older man put down his drink after a few moments. He found his own cheeks burning from having broached the sensitive subject.

“It wasn’t a big deal...that’s what friends are for,” he leaned back, folding his arms and looking at Sougo fully, “...right?”

“R-Right! Friends...right!” Sougo blurted out, unsure of what to do under Yamato’s intense scrutiny. There was a look in those green irises he couldn’t quite place, and he suddenly felt the need to be alert.

The night crowd was slowly trickling out, and the noise level plummeted. All he could think about was how they seemed to be sitting much closer than before, and how Yamato suddenly went silent after the earlier talk. It wasn’t good silence, and he gulped down the rest of his drink in futile hopes that it would dispel the tense air.

A huge sigh. “Look, I know you want to be manlier, but this isn’t the way to do it,” chastised the older man as he pried the empty cup away from his hands, “Ease up.”

Sougo didn’t reply. Yamato ended up giving back the cup anyway.

“...there’s something I want to tell you, Sou.”

At the seriousness in the other’s voice he perked up. Once more their eyes met with an intensity he didn’t understand, and Sougo turned his body so he was fully facing his companion.

“Yes?”

The word came out miraculously smooth considering how tense he was, and he tilted his head in anticipation. Yamato inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he did, and when he opened them again, he was full of conviction.

“Osaka Sougo...I like you.”

The freshly refilled cup slipped from Sougo’s pale fingers, and clattered noisily onto the table, spilling its contents over the wooden surface. It took a full 3 seconds for him to realise the consequences of his actions and he bolted out of his seat in panic, scattering tissues over the mess. Yamato simply waved a bartender over, and the two sat wordless as the accident was cleaned up.

Relax, the younger man told himself. He was probably over-thinking things like always, and those words were simply too easy to take out of context. Yamato could have just said it as a statement of fact, as really, really good friends, his rational train of thought unhelpfully supplied.

...would he need to use his full name if that were the case though?

Sougo fingered the collar of his jacket, watching as Yamato looked everywhere but directly at him.

“When you say like…” he asked, “Did you mean…?”

Green irises once more returned to their unreadable state, and he wondered if he asked something wrong until Yamato faced him once more.

“...I meant like as in the ‘will you go on a date with me’ kind.”

There was no avoiding it. Nikaido Yamato had most definitely just confessed his romantic feelings towards Osaka Sougo, and there was no going back. Sougo felt his entire face heat up, and his cheeks were probably already the darkest shade of crimson possible. Yamato on the other hand just looked mildly flushed, likely due to his high alcohol tolerance.

He adjusted his spectacles. “You don’t...have to reply immediately,” Yamato muttered, idly poking the rim of his cup.

If things had been awkward before, it just multiplied hundredfold as soon as that sentence was said. Sougo refused a refill and raised his hand to ask for the bill just as his companion did.

“Excuse me, bill please-”

“Bill for us both please-”

They froze like deers in headlights. Yamato recovered a split second faster and quickly paid. Sougo didn’t retaliate.

The rest of the night went by in a hazy memory. All the white-haired man could remember was trudging into his room and slumping on his bed, too drunk and too exhausted to do much else. He was so tired in fact, that he imagined Yamato’s silhouette standing by his doorway, only leaving when he fell asleep.

He woke up in yesterday’s clothes, head throbbing and in desperate need of several jugs of water. Yamato and him don’t see each other for the rest of the week, and the week after that too.

“Sou-chan...I’m hungryyyyyy…” Tamaki drawled, mind everywhere else but on the school assignment in front of him. It was due tomorrow, and Iori was biting back a growl as he slammed his pen down. Sougo elected to focus on memorising his own scores.

“This wouldn’t have been a problem,” he bit out, pointing to the pudding doodles at the corner of the papers, “If you actually paid attention in class, and focused!!”

The sleepy-eyed boy just slumped over, and when he sat back up and started writing again, Sougo swore a snail could slide faster than that pen tip.

“Tamaki,” he warned, “You can’t just neglect your studies! Besides, we also have MEZZO-”

The student groaned out loud, cutting him off. “You’re too noisy!”

Several pudding cups landed in front of them. In his surprised silence, Sougo reluctantly looked up to stare into familiar green eyes behind frameless oval lenses. Their gazes barely met, and even then only for a split second. Yamato paid him no heed, folding his arms as he regarded Tamaki.

“Be respectful, Tama. It’s your own fault for putting this off,” He pushed the pudding in front of the sulking boy and ruffled his hair, “Eat this, apologize to those two and work hard ok?”

As if they were kids who had just been reprimanded, the 3 of them thanked him for the food in unison, although Sougo failed to make eye contact.

The leader stood up only after Tamaki had muttered an apology and started working at a reasonable pace again. Sougo felt the words he wanted to say catch in his throat, and could only watch as Yamato walked off without so much as looking back. He picked up his pudding distractedly, turning to Tamaki.

“Tamaki, would you li-”

He stopped, looking carefully at the packaging. He didn’t notice earlier, but it was smaller than the servings the other two got, and a second glance confirmed his suspicions. Tamaki faced him, blinking with his mouth stuffed full of pudding.

“Sou-chan? You said something?”

“No...it’s nothing,” Sougo smiled nervously, stuffing his serving into his sling bag, “Just remember we have singing practice later tonight!”

He didn’t acknowledge the mildly annoyed grunt as he returned to the privacy of his own room, sliding against the door with his back facing towards it as soon as it was closed. A hand found its way into his bag, and he pulled out the single serving dessert.

_“...you don’t like pudding? I thought you always eat it together with Tama.”_

_“Not really, he ends up finishing two thirds of my share. I’m not big on sweets.”_

_“So...tea?”_

_“Matcha is fine.”_

“Matcha is fine…” Sougo murmured to himself, brushing his dainty fingertips over the label bearing the exact word. The ‘less sugar’ pasted underneath caught his attention, and he buried his head in his knees. When he finally raised it again, his cheeks were dusted over with the colour of the ripest apples.

“You idiot...you still remember.”

He clutched the plastic cup, feeling the refrigerated chill spread throughout his entire palm. Yet somehow, Sougo was feeling very warm on the inside.

Sougo’s distance with Yamato continued for several weeks. They could have been sitting across each other at dinner, but it was never a good enough time to continue where their alcohol-induced conversation left off. A few times it seemed as if the bespectacled man wanted to say something, but he always swallowed whatever it was and let the silence continue. Sougo found himself doing the exact same thing in return.

They were probably being really obvious, because the rest of IDOLISH7 started noticing the tension between them. Eventually Mitsuki was pissed enough to send them both out on a shopping errand, making sure to include an extremely LONG list and insist, once again, that they take their time and have his share of fun.

The roads were rather empty, and Sougo was thankful for the lack of crowd in the bright light of the mid to late afternoon sun.

What he wasn’t thankful for, was the fact that it meant he could hear every one of Yamato’s footsteps, and how they weren’t synced to his own, their feet pattering in a messed up rhythm. It didn’t help that the other hadn’t spoken a single word since they left the dorms.

“...where do you think you’re going?”

...it was only then that Sougo realised he had completely missed the supermarket entrance by several metres.

“S-Sorry! Let’s go in,” he squeaked, striding in ahead of Yamato as he pulled out the shopping list. He’d gone and embarrassed himself now.

The messily scrawled list was certainly long, but easy to find and tick off. Yamato volunteered to handle the dairies and toiletries while Sougo took the consumables and condiments. They split up, much to his relief, and he could start on choosing everyone’s snacks for the week. Dried fruits and nuts, some chocolate, different kinds of biscuits and several puddings (he halved the amount) later, his basket was almost filled to the brim.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the tabasco sauce he wanted had been delegated to the topmost shelf, which even one of his height would have trouble reaching. There was no stool in sight either, and Sougo groaned.

To be fair, all he had to do was jump a little and he could reach the one of the outermost bottles. It seemed like a new shipment had just come in, with how densely they were packed.

“...almost…”

It was his 3rd jump, and he managed to grab one of the bottles, but it was stuck with the rest, and when he pulled, several others came down along with it. It was as if it happened in slow motion. And when he next opened his eyes at the clattering of the bottles on the floor, all he could see was Yamato standing protectively over him.

He realised in that moment that if he tried to hide his face behind the sauce he was holding, no one would be able to tell the difference.

“...Yamato-san…”

The bespectacled man straightened up, wincing a bit when he rolled his left shoulder.

“I’m fine, you?” he dusted off his shirt, extending a hand to Sougo.

Sougo mumbled an affirmative, accepting it. A staff came to apologize and clean up, while they both left as soon as they paid for the groceries.

The bags were on the heavier side, considering a few extra purchases. The white-haired man sneaked a glance beside him. Yamato continued looking straight ahead as he walked, but the bulk of his groceries were shifted to his right arm. An image of his earlier wince flashed past Sougo’s mind and he stopped.

“Let me help,” he reached out to take the detergent.

Yamato moved it out of his way. “It’s fine, I can handle i- OW!”

Sougo huffed, removing his hand from where he had harshly squeezed the other’s left shoulder. He looked down, when nothing else was said.

“I hurt you...didn’t I?” The bottles weren’t light, and with several of them falling from that height and that impact…

“It wasn’t your fault, Sou,” Yamato finally spoke, “I did it out of my own will to protect you.”

The slightly shorter man lifted his head to gaze into unreadable emerald orbs, that he hadn’t seen in at least a month. In that moment, it felt like Yamato was trying to reach out somehow, as if even in the language of his eyes he was stuttering. His heart throbbed, and Sougo found himself doing the same.

He couldn’t do anything, not when the other was undressing his very soul like that.

Sougo broke eye contact, swiftly grabbing the detergent and shampoo bags from his companion before walking on ahead, head bowed. They weren’t even walking side by side anymore, because if Yamato got even an inch closer…

...he was sure he would realise he could fry an egg on any part of Sougo’s exposed face.

The shopping errand did nothing to fix the tension between them, and Mitsuki sighed as he took the bags from Sougo, shooing him out of the kitchen before Yamato joined them. He took off as soon as he heard footsteps behind, not stopping until he slammed his room door and dived into his perfectly made bed. It hurt. It hurt how his heart was throbbing so vigorously in his chest, like it was about to burst any moment.

He was so pathetic. Didn’t he promise himself not too long ago, that he would face any incoming problems head-on like a man? Granted, he never expected Yamato’s confession to be anywhere near that list but...he was just making excuses. Again.

Sougo breathed. It was only 5, maybe 10 minutes later that he could calm down enough to hear his own thoughts. Not that they were any less messed up.

He decided to deal with the most pressing one at hand.

“Do I even like Yamato-san that way…?”

_Warm hands. Strong, warm arms wrapped around his fragile self, as if trying to protect himself from his own thoughts. A gentle deep bass covering his ears in what could only be called a comforting hug of reassurances and sympathy. He could remember every touch, every inch of skin burning from a strength he didn’t know the other had._

_And as he looked through his own tear-filled eyes into the other’s soul, he saw nothing but…_

“...love?” he whispered, so softly even he almost couldn’t hear it.

No...no, it couldn’t be. It was just that one time, and it wasn’t as if Yamato wouldn’t have done the same thing for any other member in that situation. He was their leader after all, it was only natural he did what he did. They were idols, and it was simply unacceptable to perform at anything less than their best. To factor nonsense such as romance in was just…

Sougo groaned. He had no time for these wishy washy thoughts.

Osaka Sougo didn’t love Nikaido Yamato. He was simply mistaken with misunderstood actions and a random confession. Yeah, that was probably it.

It was with this resolve that he dealt with the following month’s activities. IDOLISH7 was having a slow month, and more often than not the members gathered in their units and had staggered off days. A blissful arrangement, in his opinion. At the very least, it gave him just a bit more time to think.

“...Sou? A moment please?”

If he had just a teensy bit less self control, his mug would long have decorated the floor with its mangled corpse. Sougo carefully set it down.

“...um, sure? What did you want to...talk about?”

He shifted awkwardly, glancing behind him. Weird, wasn’t Iori just asking him about rearranging the duty roster earlier? Both the duty roster and the raven were currently nowhere to be seen. Must have fled as soon as their leader entered.

The living room lights were half-dimmed, and if the lack of light emanating from under individual bedroom doors were anything to go by, their fellow members were more or less asleep.

There was no running anymore.

Sougo meekly followed Yamato, seating himself about two arms-length away from him.

The other sighed. “I’m not gonna bite you.”

“I-I knew that! I just...it’s cooler here,” he finished lamely.

More silence erupted, and he regretted not putting more thought into his words. Yamato leaned back, staring at the ceiling. It was tranquil where they were, and Sougo could hear every single movement they made.

“I’ll say it again, Sou. I like you, in the sense that I want to date you, that I want you to see me as a lover, not a friend,” Yamato sat up, looking directly at his companion, “And I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you with my feelings. It’s been affecting your work for the past months and I-”

“You didn’t bother me.”

Sougo faced the leader. “I’m not bothered. I’m...happy, I really am! It’s just, I think we’re misunderstanding each other’s intentions. We’re all just stressed and sensitive and-”

Yamato’s face darkened.

“So you think my confession is a misunderstanding? Is that it?”

“No...no! I just don’t want to rush to conclusions,” he started shrinking into himself at the other’s glare, “Because that would be...bad.”

“Then, what do you want me to do, Sou? How do you want me to prove that this is not just a ‘misunderstanding’?”

He even put up fingers to show the “invisible brackets” for emphasis. It was Sougo’s turn to sigh this time, and he ran his hands through his hair. When did it become this tiresome just trying to talk to their leader?

“I don’t want you to prove anything, Yamato-san,” he gripped his sleeves, steeling himself for his next words.

“Because I don’t return the favour in the least, Yamato-san...I don’t...I don’t love you.”

Sougo bit his lip. Was he too harsh? Yamato was frowning, his arms folded tightly in front of him. He took several breaths, and then broke into a smile, one not quite reaching his eyes.

“...I understand. Thanks for telling me, Sou. Goodnight.”

“...goodnight.”

The moonlight was bright as it shone through the translucent curtains. Sougo buried himself deeper under the covers, wondering why his heart continued throbbing so painfully within him...even though he was sure he’d taken care of the problem.

It was a restless night. He was sure pandas’ eyes were lighter than his own when he looked into the mirror the next morning.

Sougo brushed aside any questions about his fatigue. His lack of sleep could only be his fault, he didn’t want to drag Tamaki down with him. He had enough issues of his own to deal with. The filming for the day went surprisingly smoothly, with almost no breaks considering they were all in the zone. The younger half of MEZZO didn’t bother to hide his annoyance at the director’s long-winded debrief, and only stopped after several warnings from Sougo.

The white-haired man found his eyes closing as he treaded the familiar path home. A wave of tiredness had suddenly washed over him as soon as he stepped out of the building, and he realised his body was still compensating for the night before.

“I need to get my act together...what else can I do?” he mused, the setting sun casting its orange rays on his pale face.

By the time he blacked out on his bed, still bathed in the sun’s glow, the question remained unanswered.

He woke up to noisy chatter outside his door, the darkness of late evening having replaced the earlier sunlight. Checking his watch, he was surprised he only slept for an hour or so. His stomach growled, and he hauled himself out of bed with a small groan, opening the door only to meet with upset green eyes.

“Tama told me about today,” Yamato started, “You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?”

Sougo bit his lip. “I did sleep.”  
“...liar.”

Yamato stepped forward suddenly, and Sougo found himself backing up. Their proximity was getting a little too close for comfort, and he could feel the leader’s breath on his face.

...it was minty.

The bespectacled man straightened up, and grabbed one of Sougo’s hands. He squeaked and tried to pull it back, but to no avail. Yamato held it up, still gripping it firmly.

“Your hands are freezing, Sou. Like hell you got enough sleep.”

Sougo bristled.

“Having cold hands have n-nothing to do with the fact that I didn’t sleep enough,” he pulled his hand back, eyes darting about, “They’re always-”

“AHA!” he exclaimed, folding his arms, “You admitted you didn’t have enough sleep.”

Sougo groaned, burying his face into his hands. Great. He had just woken up from a nap that clearly did not give him enough rest, he was starving, and now he had to deal with Yamato. He wasn’t awake enough for this. In fact, even if he were properly awake, he still wouldn’t deal with it.

“Look, how much I sleep is none of your busines-”

Yamato pushed the other’s shoulders so he fell back onto the bed. Their eyes met again, and for several moments Sougo swore he could see some kind of emotion dancing behind those clear lenses. The leader turned away, breaking the connection.

“Stay here and rest,” he strolled towards the door, pausing just before he closed it, “...I’ll get you some food.”

It was the last sentence they spoke to each other that night. Yamato brought a neat tray of food in wordlessly, setting it down and leaving without a glance at him. Sougo muttered a soft thanks, but he wasn’t sure Yamato even heard.

Or that perhaps, his senses were too distracted with the love he could not have.

Sougo shook his head to get rid of the disruptive thoughts. What was up with him? Whatever problem he had with Yamato, he had already left it behind. He wasn’t still supposed to feel like the very presence of the leader might make him faint, or his chest drumming like the heartbeat of a hummingbird each time those long fingers ghosted over his skin.

The chatter outside his door had gotten significantly softer, and he guessed most of them were already finished with dinner. Sougo took a small bite out of the meat, eyes widening in surprise at how piping hot it still was.

Like the ghost of Yamato’s earlier touch, searing into his very nerves.

IDOLISH7’s activities started picking up again, and he guessed they were back on more or less amiable terms. Awkwardness continued to hang in the air between them each time they tried to chat for more than a minute, but it was fine otherwise. The members worked hard, dancing, going on live shows, singing their hearts out. It was only natural the effort paid off with their new release topping the charts for several weeks.

They had a small celebration, including the manager and Banri. Of course, no celebration was complete without alcohol (which Mitsuki gladly provided), even though the aforementioned two politely declined and the underaged members stuck to juice. There were 2 whole packs of beer.

And 3 whole adults to finish them.

Sougo repeatedly declined, but gave into the unavoidable fate of going through the party like an adult. He daringly gulped his first can down, ignoring the memories associated with it going through his mind.

“Aaaaand it’s gone!” Mitsuki announced, a fried chicken drumstick his mike, “Does he have a challenger??”

“You call that a challenge?”

Yamato huffed, downing a can even faster than Sougo had. Pink blossomed atop his cheekbones, but as they all knew, it was just the beginning.

“Bring it on,” Sougo found himself declaring.

Things started heating up, and the younger ones took turns placing random bets on who would get drunk first. Mitsuki didn’t allow money, so they had to make do. Most confident was Tamaki, who bet 10 whole King Puddings on the older half of MEZZO.

Sougo wasn’t sure exactly how many cans he had already consumed, but his vision was starting to get blurry and his thoughts were becoming more and more jumbled. Yamato on the other hand was still quite alert and conversing easily with everyone. The white-haired man was mildly annoyed by the difference in their tolerance level, but he wasn’t about to admit defeat so easily.

He lasted the whole of another can, cheeks aflame as he conked out on the table. Mitsuki announced Yamato as the winner, holding his arm up with vigor and then offering him the drumstick, to which the leader declined.

After the place was cleaned up and the bets settled (“NO! NOT MY KOKONA PENCIL!” - Nagi), only Sougo was left awkwardly sleeping on the coffee table. The rest had taken care not to touch him in the process of cleaning up. Yamato raised a half-finished can of beer to his lips, but Mitsuki pulled it away from him.

“You have something more important to take care of,” he jerked a thumb at a lightly moaning Sougo, “I know you guys have unfinished business.”

Yamato sighed, leaning on the countertop. “We finished it ages ago-”

“Not from what I can see.”

Ah, how inconvenient. Izumi Mitsuki was way too observant about such things. The orange-haired man threw the beer into the bin. Yamato winced at the waste.

“...look, I won’t deny you guys are mature adults, but this has to stop,” Mitsuki folded his arms, looking straight at Yamato.

The leader adjusted his glasses. “I-”

“You won’t get another chance like this. At least...bring him back to his room.”

Sougo wasn’t particularly heavy, but him being passed out certainly wasn’t making things easier. Yamato managed to get him all the way back to the purple-themed room. As soon as he hit the pillow, he murmured something incoherently and then went completely still. The bespectacled man pulled the covers over him, and was just about to leave when he felt his shirt being tugged.

“...Yama...to...?”

He whirled around to stare into sleepy violet irises. Wasn’t he asleep?

“Yes, I’m here, but you should sleep, so I’ll be going-”

“Nooooooooooooo….!! Don’t goooooooo!!”

“O-Ok ok I’ll stay! Just shush!”

Yamato mildly panicked at the loud volume as he sat back down, stiffening when Sougo pulled himself closer until there was no more space between them.

“...Sou?”

A giggle.

“You’re so warm, Yamato...and I’m cold~” the drunk one whined, sitting up and inching closer to him, “Won’t you stay~?”

So apparently, alcohol made one Osaka Sougo whiney, clingy and overly polite. Yamato made a mental note of it for future reference. He had after all never seen the other fully drunk, and the experience was definitely different from what he had expected.

And even if he knew it wasn’t right...he couldn’t bring himself to back away from Sougo’s eager hug.

“Yama~ Yama...Yamato…”

“Yes, yes, Yamato is here,” he assured, then swallowed, “Oniisan is here.”

Silence.

“Yamato...do you like me?”

He blinked. Sougo waited for his answer, his gaze one of an innocent child.

“O-Of course I like you, Sou! You’re kind, helpful, and you always do your best.”

“...I see…”

Everything went still again, and Yamato had to check if Sougo had fallen asleep. The shorter one mumbled something, laying his head on Yamato’s shoulder.

“At least….Yamato doesn’t...hate me…”

He looked absolutely relieved. The leader smiled, patting his head.

“Why would I hate you? I like you, remember?” he let his hand fall slack at his side.

“...unfortunately, you don’t seem to return the favour,” Yamato continued, hand crumpling the thin bedsheet, “So I just…”

“...Hmmmm…?”

Sougo looked at him, as if confused.

“You said you didn’t love me, right? That you didn’t return my affections? You said it so clearly even...”

He didn’t even know why he was pressing this issue. What answer could a drunk Sougo possibly give him that the sober one wouldn’t? He was just being needlessly desperate, not to mention pathetic.

Sougo made another incoherent sound. “...I don’t know…”

His ears perked up at that. “You don’t know...what?”

“Yama...to...why…?”

He hiccuped, head lolling to the side. He would have hit the bedside desk if Yamato hadn’t been fast enough to steady him.

“Why...do you love...someone like...me?”

Yamato didn’t reply.

“I am useless!” Sougo leaned against him, “I...abandoned my family...for idol...dreams...I have no talent...I can’t get...along with Tamaki…”

“You’re not useless. You’re indispensable. You’re a great idol, Sou.”

He laughed, a curious cross between a snort and a giggle.

“I...dol? I can’t even...admit my own feelings…”

Yamato froze. Sougo looked up at him, seemingly with more alertness than before, and a great deal of emotion.

“Yamato...don’t love me,” he whispered sadly.

“Sou…”

“Don’t love someone who...willingly abandoned his family,” he continued, with several hiccups, “Don’t love someone...with no talent...or will of his own…”

The hiccups transitioned into heartbroken sobs.

“...don’t love someone...who’s a waste of space…”

The air in the room felt like it suddenly dropped below zero degrees, and Yamato felt his half frozen heart break into a million pieces. How could it not, when Sougo was so broken and bare right in front of him…

...and he hadn’t even known the whole time?

“Sou...Sougo...Sougo, you’re not a waste of space, you never were,” he faced the crying drunk, fingers messily wiping the thin trails of tears from flushed cheeks, “You were always one of us, IDOLISH7 is not seven without you, you idiot…”

Sougo bawled, hands covering his face as he sobbed, apologizing incoherently for random nonsensical things and subsequently his own existence.

Yamato just held him through it all, hands shaking as his own tears threatened to fall.

“...and I’m sorry...that I love you...Yamato…”

The leader’s mouth fell open.

“I-I’m sorry, did you just say…” he didn’t dare to hope. His subconscious was being far too cruel to him, making him hear things that weren’t even said-

“...I love you Yamato...love you...so...much”

...it wasn’t his imagination.

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?? Why did you-”

“BECAUSE I’M AN IDIOT~!!!” Sougo almost yelled without warning, ignoring Yamato’s shushes, “Because...I don’t deserve Yama...to…”

The sobs began again. Yamato didn’t know if his heart could break anymore than it already had.

“I don’t deserve...talented Yamato...strong Yamato...Yamato who knows how...to pull the team together...I am just me...insignificant me…”

The alcohol had done a brilliant job of loosening Sougo’s lips. Too brilliant a job, in fact. Yamato felt like he had just found out about parts of his crush he was never supposed to. But right now, all he could think about was how much he had failed- as a friend and as a leader.

“Listen, Sou,” he grabbed Sougo’s shoulders, “You’re right, one of us doesn’t deserve the other. But you know who it is? It’s me. I, Nikaido Yamato, don’t feel like I deserve Osaka Sougo.”

There was no reply, and he took that as an invitation to continue.

“...because, he has such a big heart. He has so much love for IDOLISH7 I wasn’t even sure there was any left for me. He tries so hard, like no one else does and even in the face of so much internal turmoil over his family problems…”

He stared, eyes shiny, at the love of his life.

“...he just keeps moving forward. He stops for nothing. Not even for me.”

Yamato hugged Sougo close, so close he couldn’t breathe. There was no way he was letting go again. It was a mistake that cost far too much.

“I love you so much, Sou,” Yamato whispered desperately, “Please don’t deny me again.”

He couldn’t even describe how relieved he was when Sougo hugged him back and mumbled a soft affirmative. The leader smiled genuinely for the first time in months, planting a kiss on the other’s forehead as he lay him down to sleep. The drunk one was already out like a light, and Yamato lay down beside him, their hands intertwined as he too drifted off into unconsciousness.

Morning brought with it the harsh and unwanted brightness of day, and Sougo moaned as he tried pulling the covers over his head, making an even louder sound when he couldn’t.

“...too bright…”

He opened his eyes, wondering what books he could have left on his bed that were that heavy. Sougo rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and waited for them to focus…

...on the large body still sleeping beside him.

It was then that Osaka Sougo let out a loud and girly _shriek_.

Yamato jumped what seemed like a few feet into the the air, before he landed ungracefully on the floor with a loud thunk. He sat up slowly, the sudden awakening ensuring he still needed a few more seconds to fully process his surroundings.

“W-What are you…” Sougo’s face turned into the shade of a tomato, “What are you doing here in my bed??”

A wave of vertigo hit him, and he fell back on the pillow. And to add to that, his mouth felt like a desert. Damn these hangovers. Wait, hangovers?

A hangover meant they were drinking last night.

A hangover meant he got _drunk_ last night.

“Oh god...what did I do?”

“Nothing much,” Yamato admitted, seating himself back on the bed, “You just...talked.”

Sougo shuddered. If words from his family were anywhere close to the truth, then the fact that he simply talked meant he said plenty of if not everything he should not have.

“I’m sorry if I said anything offensive…” he looked down, utterly embarrassed.

“...far from that. I learnt a lot that I didn’t know about you, Sou,” Yamato smiled, then pressed his lips together into a thin line, “I didn’t...I didn’t know you felt that way about yourself.”

...oh. That embarrassing thing. He didn’t have the greatest self-confidence, that’s for sure, so it was unsurprising it came out in his drunken rant. At least, that still seemed alright. It could be worse.

“...and also, your feelings.”

...it couldn’t be worse.

Sougo froze, and he looked like a deer in headlights. He’d had so many thoughts about this issue over the past few months, and so many pent up emotions. Just how much did he reveal to the one person he wouldn’t even dream of making it known to? He gulped.

“Relax, Sou. You didn’t say anything embarrassing,” Yamato half-lied, “You simply told me how you really feel...about us.”

If a tomato tried to be a riper shade of red than Sougo’s cheeks right now, it wouldn’t even come close.

“Do you really think you don’t deserve me, Sou?”

“I...I just…”

He tried. He really did try to remember what happened in his extremely drunken stupor last night, but he could barely get past the haziness and his own incoherent mumbling and crying. Even if he did remember a reassuring warmth...

Yamato just laughed, an amused lopsided grin on his face. He shifted closer to Sougo.

“Well, forget that. I don’t care about it, ok? And you shouldn’t either.”

“Yamato-san…”

“Let’s do this again, shall we?”

Sougo felt his breath catch in his parched throat. He wasn’t sure if his heart was ready for whatever Yamato was proposing.

“Osaka Sougo...I don’t just like you, I love you,” Yamato began a hand moving to cover Sougo’s.

“Will you accept my feelings?”

It was too much, Yamato was just too much. How was he even supposed to react? He never dreamed that such a situation was possible after he had so cold-heartedly rejected the other’s feelings. There was no way he was so lucky.

So lucky to have such a capable, courageous, interesting, funny, caring person fall for him. So lucky, to have someone with such beautiful eyes, such a handsome and charming smile fall for him. So lucky to have a second chance with this amazing human being who clearly deserved better.

So lucky, that in spite of everything, Nikaido Yamato still wanted to love him, for everything he was, and everything he was not.

He must be dreaming, he decided. Even so, he wanted it to last.

“Yes...yes!”

Sougo didn’t know he could put so much strength into his hugs, but he didn’t care. His heart was throbbing once more, even faster in fact, but it didn’t hurt anymore. He felt like it was so full of something. Happiness? Hope? It was so full he almost couldn’t breathe, yet the smile on his face remained, and tears containing no trace of sadness trailed down his cheeks.

“I...I love you...Yamato.”

Closer, and closer. Their lips barely brushed, before they kissed, and it felt like a thousand electric sparks were charging through his lips. Yes, he could deal with this. It was a long journey ahead, whether in work or in love. But he could do it.

They could do it. Somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> This couple is so precious someone hold me ;-;
> 
> You can follow me on my personal tumblr blog at https://midori-emmi.tumblr.com or my twitter @midoriemmi


End file.
